


Needs to be Said

by foxtrot77



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, An Overdue Apology, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical language, Dorks in Love, Fluff, I think I tagged that correctly, Kissing, M/M, Missing Scene, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 10:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11942550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxtrot77/pseuds/foxtrot77
Summary: With the Big Battle against Temple looming before them, Simmons wants to get a couple things to get off his chest. You know. Just in case they die. Or worse.





	Needs to be Said

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't watched Season 15, this has spoilers!

“There’s something I think you should know.”

Grif glances at Simmons from the corner of his eye.

“What’s that?” he asks, nudging his orange helmet with the toe of his boot. The two of them are sitting outside the Pelican, leaning back against the ramp. Simmons’s own helmet is resting in his lap, and all he really wants to do now is go back to their moon and take the longest shower of all time.

That last fight wasn’t easy and they aren’t close to done yet, and Simmons wishes he could hide somewhere and nap until it’s all over.

Simmons looks over at Tucker, who’s pacing back and forth in front of the ship, then down at the bloody gloves the teal soldier had flung on the floor once Locus took off with Washington in his ship.

Tucker’s out for blood, and Simmons would be lying if he said he didn’t want to find Gene and kick his ass. Temple and the others have it coming to, but Gene. Gene’s the worst.

But there’s no way of knowing if this next battle will be their last. And Simmons has something to get off his chest just in case they don’t—

No. He’s not going to think about that right now.

Simmons gulps and lifts his gaze to the ceiling. Even though it, like, _has_ to be said, it isn’t going to be easy to say. Curse his insufferable awkwardness!

“I want you to know that, well, um,” Simmons turns to look Grif in the eyes, one brown, one green. Simmons hasn’t seen Grif’s face in weeks. He looks more tired than usual.

_Focus, Simmons!_

“I want you to know that I’m sorry,” Simmons says, a little louder than he intended.

Grif blinks. His brows knit together and he looks Simmons up and down.

“For what?” he asks. “I’m the one that quit, Simmons. I should be the one who’s sorry. Super sorry. Super hyper mega sorry.”

“Yeah, but you—” Simmons begins, but Grif cuts him off again.

“And if I’d come along, maybe Sarge wouldn’t have turned. At least when I’m around, he’s got _someone_ to try and murder.” Grif shrugs. “Like I said, I’m the hate gl—”

“Dex, shut up!” Simmons shouts.

Tucker stops pacing for a millisecond and Grif’s mouth drops open as Simmons springs to his feet. His helmet tumbles to the floor.

_Did I just call him_ Dex? Simmons thinks. _Great. Oh well, no going back now_.

“That’s not right,” he says. Grif opens his mouth to argue but Simmons holds up his hand. “No, listen.”

Grif shuts his mouth and raises an eyebrow.

“Listen,” Simmons repeats, “You’re not ‘hate glue’. That’s bullshit. You’re like—you’re like the exact opposite! You know what else is bullshit? That you believe that—that we—that _I_ let you believe that’s all you are. That the only thing you’re here for is to be target practice and to be dumped on so we feel better about what awful human trash we are.

“And not only that—” Simmons stops for a breath. “Not only that, it was shitty of me to shove all my problems and insecurities at you and then, like, not do the same for you. You held me together—like, uh, _legit_ glue—and there I was, kicking you when you were down. You were right, you know? To quit? To leave? We never asked you what you wanted and I—”

“Simmons—” Grif tries to cut in. Tucker, still pacing, keeps looking over at them. Fuck.

“Please Grif, I’m—I’m almost done! Then you can tear me a new one, I—I promise.” Simmons lets out a shaky sigh. “After the Vegas Quadrant and then the Temple of Procreation—” (Grif bristles) “—I expected you to—to pretend like nothing happened, and I treated you like garbage because I was too afraid to confront and acknowledge my feelings and, um, that was not cool. Like, I pushed you away when I—when I should’ve been over the fucking _moon_ that, well, you know…”

Simmons struggles for the words, Grif is just gaping at him and Tucker has stopped pacing completely.

From the corner of his eye Simmons notices Sarge standing at the top of the ramp, face unreadable. His heart plummets into his stomach, but he can’t stop now, he’s so close.

“Grif—Dex—I fucking love you, and all I’ve done to show it is call you ‘fatass’ and laugh while Sarge torments you. So, no, Grif, _I’m_ the one that should be sorry. Not you. If anyone’s the ‘hate glue’ around here, it’s me, and I’m—I’m sorry.”

No one says anything for a full minute.

Simmons knows because he counts the seconds.

“You what?” Grif finally asks, pushing himself to his feet.

“I—I’m sorry,” Simmons says again. “And I totally understand if you don’t want anything to do with me, or whatever, I deserve—”

He doesn’t finish that thought though because Grif grabs him and kisses him.

It takes Simmons a moment to realize what’s happening before he finds himself returning the kiss, melting into it as Tucker hollers something. What he’s saying, Simmons doesn’t know—or care—because his brain’s filled with white noise and one thought:

_Holy shit._

When Grif pulls away Simmons shakes his head and almost topples backwards.

Gaping at the person in front of him, this person who, logically, should hate his guts, this person who just kissed him, Simmons discovers his ability to form coherent sentences has ceased to exist.

“I—you—we—” Simmons gestures at himself, at Grif, at the ceiling.

“I love you too, you idiot,” Grif says.

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty short, and I know I have more I might want to write on this particular topic, but Grif's hate glue comment made me really sad, and I thought Simmons owed him an apology (and a confession) we didn't get this season. So! Hope you enjoyed it!


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